90's kid. Ocassional writer. Masterlist is pinned. Requests are OPEN but do not ask for incest, dubcon/noncon(sex pollen is an exception). Lover of a good zombie stories and AUs. You can also find me on Wattpad as @Moonfana
I have finally kicked the procrastination demon off my back and created a Masterlist. I will try my best to update it as often as it will occur to me. You will find the writings under the break/read more liner. If You like something, please, comment or reblog, it takes only a second. :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Thinking about the fandom and their love of Echo. As a disabled person it means a lot to see Echo so loved in The Clone Wars before his injuries and imprisonment, and then to continue loving him after. Yâall love this man even when he only has one good limb and looks sickly from his imprisonment and has âenhancements.â I donât even think not loving him when his story changed so drastically, when his looks changed so drastically was an option for yâall. Iâm seeing you love his skills, his voice, his looks. Itâs really amazing to know that someone like Echo is valued, and cared about, and even wanted romantically and sexually. Thatâs just super cool of you. Keep it up!
Special Containment Procedures: Each anomalous individual is to be kept in a single cell separate not within 200 ft of another. Each cell is to be outfitted with simple living arrangements and entertainment is to be provided upon request. Each cell is to be made of reinforced concrete with a single titanium locked door leading out of the cell. SCP-141 a-d should be mixed in among other safe or neutralized SCPs in order to prevent attempts to use said SCPs as weapons.
It is recommended that testing requests be made to SCP-141-a, which appears to be the leader of the group. If approval is granted SCP-141 a-d will be removed from their cells and transported to a separate testing chamber of no more than 12x12m. This meeting chamber is to have no outside tools or instruments brought into it or left within at such times as SCP-141 is present within it. Absolutely no weapons are to be within range of SCP-141 a-d, and security personnel is recommended to be in plain clothes.
The individuals which make up SCP-141 are not to be exposed to each other for more than five minutes before the individual needed for testing is removed to a separate chamber and the rest are returned to their rooms.
SCP-141 a-d are generally considered reasonable and will not become violent unless provoked. However, if threatened special containment procedures must be followed to prevent any major destruction from taking place. Specifically, the removal of all weaponry, electronics, and chemicals from the area. All anomalous individuals must be separated and kept under strict containment in blast proof cells until anomalous effects wear off. *
SCP-141 a-d have been outfitted with tracker bands and allowed to resume normal operations under close supervision. **
SCP-141 a-d have been chipped, and are currently being tracked via satellite. They will check in once every âŹâŹâŹ months with approximate location and will report any other anomalous entities they come into contact with. Do not attempt to apprehend.
Description: SCP-141 is an anomalous gathering of soldiers which, when brought within 50m of each other seems to activate the individuals own anomalous properties. Anomalies disappear within âŹâŹ hours of separation. Individuals generally appear unaware of their anomalies and report no noticeable changes between entering SCP-141 and leaving it. SCP-141 is made up of 4 5 separate anomalous entities and functions as a military task force. SCP-141 will take on assigned tasks and missions as a military task force if allowed to.
Currently SCP-141 is in âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ attempting to take down the âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ cartel. To date SCP-141 has aided in the capture of âŹâŹ SCPs.
SCP-141-a: Captain John Price. SCP-141-a is an anomalous individual from Liverpool displaying an the ability to âŹâŹâŹâŹâŹ. In testing SCP-141-a was able to âŹâŹâŹ with both precision and speed. SCP-141-a has demonstrated an secondary anomalous ability to manipulate individuals into giving information and aid. Conversation between SCP-141-a and all personnel is to be closely monitored and aborted should personnel interacting with SCP-141-a be suspected of shifting loyalties or brainwashing.
SCP-141-a seems both aware of the anomalous properties of the group and willing to use them for what he calls "the greater good".
Note: SCP-141-a has demonstrated an increased tension around testing recently, as well as a sharp increase in willingness to subject the other members of SCP-141 to testing.
Note 2: SCP-141-a is not to be trusted with information regarding Site âŹâŹ operating procedures or personnel.
Note 2a: Who the fuck is giving SCP-141-a information?
SCP-141-b: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. SCP-141-b is an anomalous individual from London displaying memetic properties which convince anyone talking to him that they've known him for years. D class personnel exposed to SCP-141-b for an extended period of time are able to recall false memories of him from various points in their life, as well as give general descriptions of SCP-141-b's likes and dislikes. SCP-141-b seems unaware but unbothered by this and will simply nod politely when the fictional memories are brought up. When asked about any relation later SCP-141-b will claim he has "never met them in his life," but that they "seemed nice enough."
SCP-141-c: John "Soap" Mactavish. SCP-141-c is an anomalous individual from Glasgow displaying an anomalous understanding of weaponry and physics, which he is unable to replicate outside of the group. When grouped into SCP-141 he is able to disassemble and reassemble weapons into different functions, replacing and substituting parts between weapons. His understanding of physics while within SCP-141 seems to function outside of normal understanding. He appears to make up rules as he goes along, and is able to follow them even when they go against established laws of physics. Researchers attempting to follow steps SCP-141-c outlined are unable to replicate his results. Normal physics and mechanics apply when SCP-141-c is outside of the group.
SCP-141-d: âŹâŹâŹ "Ghost" âŹâŹâŹ. SCP-141-d is an anomalous individual from Manchester, England. He is unable to be photographed, and will not show up in photos taken of him.
Note: SCP-141-d's inability to show up in photos seems to be a secondary anomalous property. Given the recent break out of SCP-141 from Site âŹâŹ as well as the observations gained from new containment procedures it is theorized that SCP-141-d is unable to die. SCP-141-d appears to be able to take massive amounts of lethal damage without flinching. Secondary effect SCP-141-d-a allows any member of SCP-141 to heal SCP-141-d using basic first aid.
Note 2: How the fuck is this guy still walking.
Note 3: Please keep all notes to observations only.
SCP-141-e: SCP-141-e is an unknown anomalous entity which seems to share a psychic link to SCP-141-a and is able to communicate information to SCP-141-a. SCP-141-a refers only to this entity as "Laswell" and cannot be persuaded to share further details. SCP-141-e seems to give SCP-141-a orders, and has an almost omniscient understanding of situations and enemies that SCP-141 may come across.
*Following SCP-141's recent escape and the loss of several personnel containment procedures must be revisited.
**Someone bring these assholes in and tell them to stop taking off their fucking arm bands or we're going to chip them.
Some Ghost!Ghost that I wrote in a blind panic at midnight last night before collapsing back asleep. Minors DNI (cw: dubcon, somno)
Your cunt stretches around his cock, clenches around him like you can't get enough. Your body trying to keep him locked in place even in your sleep. he can see the soft pink walls of your pussy, the translucent cock that spears you open also giving your ghostly top an clear view of your insides. Your hips shift at the pressure of being filled, your knee moving from where you lay on your side to try and get comfortable. Look at you, so cute drooling against the pillow, arms wrapped around another as your silly little brain keeps you under the throws of sleep. Poor thing. It's a good thing Ghost is around to keep you safe when you're such a sound sleeper.
The burn of being stretched around his cock makes you whimper, the soft sound breathes out of you as Ghost fucks your pliant body. You're getting better about sleeping through his visits. Must be getting used to him, used to being filled by him. He wonders what you're dreaming about, if you're dreaming at all. Your soft lips part around delicate moans, hardly anything worth waking up over. It has to be him doesn't it? Perverse thing that you are, so willing to take his cock in the daylight even when you can't see him, do you dream about him too?
Some sick part of him purrs, pleased to know you're so easily trained, that your body welcomes him so nicely. But the part that's still human twists. He knows he shouldn't take advantage of your kindness like this. If he was a better man...
Well, if he was a better man he wouldn't be stuck in this terrible limbo in the first place. He wouldn't still have blood spilling from his slit throat. He wouldn't be fucking the sweet thing that's trying so hard to accommodate him in a house that's no longer his own.
Still, he thinks, better than the men that you've brought into the house. He's protecting you, really, by chasing them off. He's keeping you safe from their lecherous hands, their perverse glances and impure thoughts. He's keeping you satisfied so you don't try to seek satisfaction elsewhere. It's just the two of you here, no one else. He won't allow anyone else to know you like he does, to enjoy your kindness, your understanding, your body.
"There you go baby, big stretch," He murmurs, speaks in a voice he knows you'll never hear, when your brows scrunch the tiniest bit as he draws his cock out of your tight hole and presses it back into you, "you can take it, know you can." The warm clutch of your body is too much to resist, even when your skin seems to lose its heat wherever he touches you. He can't stop touching you, passing through your clothes to grope at your chest during the day, ghosting his fingers over your hips when you lay tile, his lips against your neck when you reach for something off a high shelf, his cock fucking you over the kitchen counter like the little trespassing whore you are.
You take it all so eagerly. Leave offerings for him, take his opinion, do you even know the strength you give him, the power. He wouldn't have been able to do this months ago, wouldn't have been able to sink into your slick cunt and hold himself up with a hand on your hip. Fuck you look so good when he spreads you open, tugs your folds out of the way with his thumb to watch the way you swallow him.
There is, he supposes, one nice thing about being dead: when you wake up in the morning with your pussy aching and sticky, you assume it must be from the wet dream you had last night.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI
Wordcount: 3.8k
Tags: Power imbalances, Unrequited pining, Shy Reader, Stuck in a lift, Dry humping, Dirty talk, Seduction, Praise kink, Vaginal fingering, Secret affair, Pet names
Warnings: None (ask to tag)
A/N: This is a quick little idea of the OG himself. I'll probably do more headcanon based ideas soon, but for now enjoy the filth
The thing about Captain MacTavish is that heâsâŚintimidating.
The self proclaimed red-blooded Scot is built like a brick shithouse, as one of your fellow officers once put it. Ruggedly handsome, strong, thick with muscle with coarse hair over his arms and stubble along his jaw. Thereâs a scar over one of his eyes, a slashing wound that should have blinded him. It crinkles slightly when he offers a lopsided smirk that taunts danger, that bares a reckless nature he hasnât fully shed despite his years of experience. You tell your bunkmate that heâd make very good money as a bouncer at a nightclub, and her laughter nearly wakes up the whole hallway.
Intimidating.
Which is not necessarily the right word, you think. The Captain has a way around his men and fellow officers, an easy likeability thatâs hard to ignore. He commands respect from his troops not in the way of brute posturing or snarling demands, but in the display of capability that has saved their lives many times over. Heâs the firm touch on their shoulder as they check their gear before deployment, the firm reminder of level headedness over comms, the sharp, ringing command that cuts through gunfire when everything else has gone wrong.
The man exudes leadership, and you are among those helplessly drawn to it.
Yet thereâs something closed off there that you can see in his eyes, an untold story that has drawn the lines of age in the corner of his steely gaze. It feels as if thereâs an invisible barrier around him that prevents others from getting danger close. Magnetic, it pulls you in despite yourself, an inextricable attraction towards the nick of a blade you long to taste. Dangerous, like a moth to flame.
Not that youâll ever do anything about it of course. As much as you daydream about the time you saw the captainâs broad back shiny with sweat on the sparring mats as he trained the other recruits, the low lilt of his accent that clouds your thoughts, you know itâs a terrible idea to develop a crush on your superior.
Itâs hard not to, not when you deliver him his daily intelligence report in the afternoon, and he always makes sure to look up and greet you as you hand over the folder, smiling and offering: âThank you, lass.â
Traitorous, you think, how your stomach devolves into butterflies just at the sight of his pleasant grin.Â
Worse is the fact that despite his gruff exterior the man is always such a gentleman to you. He gives you his full attention when you speak, ensures his other male officers do not interrupt or speak over you, holds open doors when you walk into the meeting room together, ensures his men donât harass you just for your status of being a woman. You think itâd be easier if he was just as pompous and arrogant as his fellow officers, but instead Captain MacTavish has the ability to make you feel special, like youâre the only other one in the room with him.Â
It makes you feel a little guilty, admittedly- that heâs kind and decent and you constantly think about what it would be like to bend the rules so he can bend you over his desk.Â
Caught in fantasy as you are, you donât notice the way his eyes watch you out of the corner of his eye, take note of you stretching on your toes to reach something in a filing cabinet, the way your brow scrunches in thought as you scrutinize his paperwork, the slight tremble of your hand when you pass him a cup of coffee in the mess hall, the duck of your head when he offers an amicable thanks.Â
You donât notice the way heâs thinking anything but decent thoughts about you.
Itâs hard to help. Youâre a sweet, shy thing, and Soap is a man not immune to the charm of your bashful nature. He enjoys your wide eyed gaze as he selfishly sneaks gentle touches, a hand on your shoulder as he scoots past you in a crowded hallway, letting his fingers linger a little too long when you pass him a stack of files for him to sign off on, the barest little hitch of breathing he hears when he lets his voice dip an octave as he speaks.
âThank ye, bonnie.â He tells you this afternoon, and relishes the way you repress a shiver at the endearment.Â
Later, when he catches you at your desk gazing dreamily into space, he enjoys the glassy tint of your eyes, and imagines youâre thinking of him.
And, secretly, he thinks what it would be like to have you mewling and trembling under his war-worn hands.Â
For all his decency and charisma, there is one thing you donât know about the captain, and that is that heâs a wolf.
And you, youâre an adorable bunny waiting for the killing bite of his seduction.
Yet shy as you are, never to act on this, Captain MacTavish decides to take things into his own hands.Â
He has you move your desk to his office, helping him with his own paperwork, and offers to buy you lunch on the basis of being a good boss, a good superior. He ensures you have everything you need for your space and helps you pick out a better desk chair when you complain about the standard base ones hurting your back.
And if he uses his rank to ensure your colleagues and higher ups donât complain? Well. Thatâs his business.
âGood lass.â He tells you in passing when you find a piece of intelligence he requested, offering a small squeeze of your shoulder and feeling you stiffen under him before exhaling unsteadily- unaware of his smug grin just behind your shoulder.Â
Cute, the way you think he wonât notice your little reactions, your dreamy eyes and the fantasies hidden behind them.Â
In all places, it comes to a head in a stuck lift.
The meeting is in fifteen minutes, and you insist on taking the lift because of the obstacle course drills you were put through yesterday, whining about your aching thighs. Soap, the good captain that he is, acquiesces and allows it, crossing his arms and watching the doors close-
Only for the lift to give a groan and shudder to a stop.
âBloody old building.â He gripes, giving the doors a small kick in grumbling protest. âTold maintenance these things needed to be repaired months ago.â
Heâs not concerned. Worse comes to worse, heâs crawled up through elevator shafts before. Besides, itâs not as if youâre on the eighth floor, merely stuck between the first and second. Itâs an inconvenience, but not an inescapable or deadly one. Heâs not as young as he once was, but this shouldnât be too beyond him.
You, on the other hand, press the call button frantically, trying to ask for help and rescue. The operator is quick to tell you that mechanics and the fire brigade are on the way, and tells you to stay calm.Â
âHow long are we going to be stuck in here?â You ask Soap, fidgeting. A nervous little filly, he thinks, as he eyes you with mild amusement.
âMaybe an hour.â He drawls, watching as your eyes go wide.
âWeâll miss the briefing.â You manage, a little choked, as if that is the gravest of your concerns, and not the thoughts Soap has about taking full advantage of the privacy he has with you.
âAye.â He replies with a snort. âShame, that.â
You make a little sound at that, something between petulance and despair, slumping into the wall as your face crumples.
âHey, easy.â Soap offers, voice gentler now as he approaches you, gloved hands easily balancing you by your elbows across the wall. âItâs alright lass. Weâll be free in no time. Take a breath for me, aye?â
You nod at that, eyes turned towards the ground to avoid his gaze as you suck in a deep breath, hold it, and then let it out slowly.
âGood girl.â He purrs, unable to help himself, and relishes the way your eyes dart up to his, pupils blown wide as you realize for the first time just how close he is.
This is dangerous.
Heâs got you crowded into the wall of the lift, all but blocking escape with his brawny frame. The shadow of his figure falls over your smaller form, dwarfing you. His hands cup you by your arms, bare fingers skimming along your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps rising in their wake. Your captainâs expression is calm, but even with the overhead light backlighting his face, you can see the intent, the scarcely concealed fixation there hidden beneath kind eyes and whispered only though a knowing smirk.Â
Prey in a snare.
âS-sir-â You manage, voice tight as you finally realize the true nature of his intent with the way he hums a low, deep note in his chest that makes you shiver.
âThought I wouldnae ken you watching me, bonnie?â He asks in a low, rumbling intonation that vibrates at the base of your skull. âSneaking looks and off with the faeries everytime I called you a good girl?â
âI-â You try, and itâs a useless effort really. You could summon a thousand excuses, but you know none of them would work on him. Captain Mactavishâs eyes are too keen, too knowing for that. If heâs seen this much, if heâs seen the way you daydream while he doesnât look, the way you try desperately to quell your infatuation with him, then thereâs no use trying to pretend otherwise.Â
"You like being called a good soldier? A good lass?â He goes on, and you bite down hard on a whimper of want that threatens to bubble up your throat. Your captainâs thumbs stroke the inside of your elbow gently, pressing down on the divot of sensitive skin and loosing an unsteady breath from your chest.Â
âLook at you wobbling like a wee fawn.â He purrs in that low lilt of his. âThis isn't because of me, is it? Developing feelings for your superior. Tut tut. Naughty thing."
âCaptain-â Your voice is a strangled thing in your throat, choked by the cognitive dissonance of this, of something straight out of your wildest fantasies, a secret you keep to yourself in the dark of your bunk with your fingers buried between your thighs.
John hums, allowing his eyes to roam down your form, gently caged into the wall as you are, eyes glimmering with a hunger you didnât know he possessed- A wolf in sheepâs clothing.
âTell me to stop.â He murmurs then, voice serious. âI wonât touch you. Iâll transfer you if thatâs what you want.â
âNo.â Your answer comes so quickly it surprises even you, and suddenly your fingers are gripping on the inside of his forearms as if trying to keep him from retreating. â...Please.â
He gives you a moment, then another to reconsider, to retract your agreement and shove him off you. When you donât, your captain grins.
âShy little bonnie.â He croons. âDidnae have the words to ask for what you wanted from your superior, did you?â
You shudder when his gloved palm cups your cheek, leaning instinctively into it, sweet and willing. His thumb presses down on the plush bed of your bottom lip, and it takes a moment of courage to part your lips, lean forward so it rests on your tongue instead.
The sound your captain makes is carnivorous.
Hungry, wanting, dark as sin as he watches you engulf the digit and make eye contact with him, as if tempting danger. He tastes like the steel like of a sharp blade, cutting through your senses and leaving crimson want dripping against your thoughts.Â
He removes his thumb so a drip of spit trails after it, and before it can spill your captain bends and kisses you.
Itâs dizzying, all consuming, all open lips as he groans into you, one arm snaking around to the small of you back to balance you on wobbly legs, the other gripping your chin and directing you exactly how he wants you, tilting your head just so he can kiss you deeper. You feel unbalanced by the sheer force of it, leaving little choice but to clutch at his uniform, go a little limp in his arms and mewling into his open mouth.
âAye, thatâs it.â He groans between wet, sloppy kisses, dragging his teeth over your bottom lip and feeling you press back into him, eager for more. âFuckin beautiful, hen.â
His warm breath spills against your open throat, where you think he might bestow a killing bite if youâd let him, groaning in appreciation at the raw, heady taste of you as he takes everything you can bear to give him.Â
âSir-â You whine when he wedges a knee between your legs, hands planted firmly on your ass so he drags your clothed cunt over the rise of his thick thigh. âOh God-â
âNo God here, love.â He huffs as your head flops gently to the side, his words fanning across the shell of your ear so you shudder. âJust you anâ me.â
That might be for the best, you think. One less witness to the act of your captain defiling you the way youâve dreamt of for longer than you care to remember.Â
Your captainâs hands grasp the fat of your ass as you give an experimental rock onto his thigh, stifling a little whimper as you do. It only makes him chuckle, dark and hungry into your ear as he nibbles on the sensitive skin beneath your jaw.Â
âCâmon lass, you can do better than that.â He huffs, and you feel him smile against your neck. âGo on, take what you need. Wanna feel you get off just from grinding on my leg like this.â
Youâre not sure if you can, honestly, but gods above do you want to try.Â
You grab at his neck for support, pressing him further as he bows over you, engulfs you with the heat of his frame. Then you allow your knees to fold, letting him support the weight of you as you begin to drag yourself along his thigh.
The friction is delicious, sends your nerve endings alight with sensation as the pleasure of it spills past your lips with an open groan. You wonder if the mere act of this, of humping your superiorâs leg like a cat in heat while he purrs praises into your ear, does more for you than the actual motion itself. Either way, you begin to feel a warmth unfurling in your core, cunt clenching down on a needing emptiness that has you bury a whimper into his shoulder.Â
âThaaatâs it.â MacTavish- John, you wonder if heâll let you call him, croons in your ear. âLemme hear all those pretty noises, hen.â
You do, realizing thereâs no one else to hear you. You give in, allow him to hear every hitch in your chest, every shuddering gasp and breathless plea of âS-sir-â
âFeel good?â He asks, hands kneading the swell of your ass as he helps rock you along his thigh. âJust imagine bonnie, could have had this weeks ago if youâd only let me.â
Heâs right. If youâd only said something to him, had made a move on him, then you could have been having his low, Scottish lilt purr right in your ear as you try to get off ages ago.
But this is good too.
âCannae even imagine how much it took for me not to pounce on you.â He huffs, pressing fluttering kisses against the thrum of your pulse. âAll those sweet little looks you thought I couldnât see, the way you were mooning over me like I wouldnae notice-â
âThatâs- thatâs not-â You try, managing to sound a little indigent despite your heaving breaths.Â
âOh I know, bonnie.â He croons with a huff of laughter. âYou were just trying to be a good soldier, didnât want to get caught seducing your superior, aye? What would the other officers think?â
You whimper at that, clutching a little tighter if only out of a remnant pulse of shame. Yet John doesnât let you stop, drags you more insistently over the bulge of his thigh straining through his pants.Â
âThey donât get to know.â He tells you, smirking. âThey donât get to know how sweet ye are like this, how pretty you look trying to come all over my leg, aye bonnie?â
You feel it rising inside you, feel your oncoming climax mount with every low rumble of words against your skin, with the way his scent clouds your senses so thereâs nothing else but the sensation of him, the pleasure of you grinding your wet, empty cunt against his leg.
âCâmon, little one. Can feel you trying. Whatâdye need?â He huffs, and you shake your head into his shoulder.Â
âEmpty.â You tell him in a little, shy whisper, face burning as you refuse to look him in the eyes. Yet a hand catches your cheeks, turns you up to his gaze so you have no choice but to look into his bright, glimmering stare.Â
âWhat was that?â He asks, and Gods, you think he may eat you alive. âNeed to use your words, sweetheart.â
âE-empty.â You tell him a little louder, catching sight of the glassy eyed stare reflected in his eyes, feeling your legs shake with the effort of trying to hold your own weight.Â
âOh poor wee lass.â John sighs, bending down to kiss you again, swallowing the little whimper that bubbles up your throat. âDinnae fash, Iâll take care of you.â
He pulls away so quickly you nearly drop to the floor, were it not for the hand slung across your hip that keeps you upright. You hear the clink of a belt, and for a single hopeful moment you think maybe itâs his, only to groan in disappointment and need as he squirms his hand past your own waistband, slinking his fingers between your folds.Â
âChrist almighty, lass, youâre soaking wet.â He breathes, bracing his forehead against yours so you feel his warm huff of air on your swollen lips. âJust from this?â
Yeah. This. You want to tell him. As if âthisâ isnât something straight out of your wildest wet dreams, him easily handling you in close quarters, treating you with greedy hands and yet touching you as if youâre something prized, a beautiful weapon heâs admired from afar for far too long.Â
When he sinks a finger into you John groans a deep, resounding noise in his chest, open and appreciating the way your slick heat instantly clenches around his fingers.Â
âFuck, the feel of you, hen.â He breathes as he pumps his fingers with deliberate slowness, as you whimper and writhe and try to force yourself down onto his hand to chase your just out of reach climax. âSo warm and tight, cannae even imagine how youâd feel around my cock.â
âPlease.â You gasp desperately, body flushed with want as you grind against his fingers, seeking to angle them just right. âCaptain.â
The sound John makes is primal, and youâre given little warning before suddenly heâs plunging a second finger into you, giving you only a moment to adjust to the stretch before heâs setting a rapid pace that has you wail into his chest.Â
âIs alright lass, I got you. Câmon, wanna feel you cum all over my hand.â He growls, panting, entire body coiled tight as he pushes you further towards your climax. âIâll fuck you proper after, promise. Just need to feel it when you come, wanna hear how pretty you sound, câmon-â
Itâs that thought, the one of him having you right here in the lift, bending you against the wall and fucking you just like this that makes you arch with a broken little shout, clenching down hard on his fingers as he slowly works you through it, murmuring sweet endearments down at you as you tremble. You feel your walls pulse around his thick digits, coating them in slick and you realize too late he never took his glove off.
You nearly buckle as the last pulse of pleasure pulses bright and powerful through you, clutching at him with a little whimper as you come down slowly. Youâre warm all over, muscles flooded with a bright release that has you wobble where you stand. The pulse of your heartbeat echoes in your ears and you try desperately to catch your breath amidst it all.Â
And, naturally, thatâs the moment when the lift starts moving again.
You almost entirely lose your balance when the floor beneath you jolts, squeaking as you lean fully into your captain. He doesnât seem to be caught off guard at all. If anything, John seems amused at the sudden motion of the elevator, huffing a warm sound of disbelief up towards the ceiling.Â
âThink weâll still be late for that meeting, bonnie?â He asks, grinning mischievously, as if he didnât just make you come so hard your knees wobble.
âNo sir.â You breathe, leaning back against the wall as he pulls his hand from your pants, leaning up and licking his fingers free of your wetness.Â
âFuck.â You breathe helplessly, head flopping back. âYouâre glove-â
He hums, as if just now realizing you stained the palm of his fingerless glove, pulling the velcro strap with his teeth as one hand balances you while you regain your strength.Â
âKeep it safe for me.â He tells you, jamming it into your front pocket as the lift whines to a halt. âGive it back to me later. After the meeting.â
After can mean a lot of things, you realize.
The lift dings pleasantly, and your captain hauls a brawny arm to keep the door open for you, ever the gentleman.Â
âGo on then lass,â He smiles, friendly and easygoing despite the knowing, hungry glimmer in his gaze. âTell them Iâll be a few. Have to give the mechanics a talkin to.â
You nod, still a little shell shocked, a little disheveled, blinking dazedly as you scoot past him, then pause.Â
Checking the hallway, you twirl around and lean up to kiss him so you hear the little breath of surprise against your lips.Â
âAfter, captain?â You ask sweetly, blinking your lashes up at him and watching his pupils blow wide.Â
âAfter.â He declares, voice just as sultry, leaning down to nip teasingly in front of your face, fangs and all.Â
You sway off to the meeting, sneak into the back row and explain the hold up, and nobody looks at you twice, shy as you are. When your captain comes in five minutes later, only you notice the way he struts to the front of the room, smirking wide and assured as he briefs his men on their next target.Â
âWeapons hot, lads.â He declares, arms crossed, a smile taunting danger. âWeâre danger close.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming